


black cherries and chocolate

by harryanthus



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Creepy, Hearing Voices, It's not really a relationship, M/M, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryanthus/pseuds/harryanthus
Summary: there is something or well, someone in the walls.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27
Collections: 1D Trick Or Treat Fest 2020





	black cherries and chocolate

Voices in the walls, voices in the room, voice in the head.

The walls here lack ears, they keep talking, Harry. Harry, they are talking, they won’t listen to what I say. 

Harry, are you listening?

A cover of white over the top of my screen, a message in black font, _it’s the default, Mr. Tomlinson_ , warning, 12 percent.

It is threatening to die on me halfway through where the walls have voices. They have flowers too. The walls.

The walls have flowers and those might just be the wallpaper, lemon yellow flowers, baby blue flowers, rose pink flowers.

Let’s plant some flowers in our backyard, maybe some lilies, some orchids, some lilacs, some lavender. All of them begin with L except orchids, should we plant them?

It’s too dark when there are no lights. It’s just ten pm and the lights are off. 

I could’ve bumped into something and have a row of bruises.

We should buy some bruise cream, I have a lot of those on me, they seem to appear out of nowhere. Like stubborn dandelions in the cracks of tar and cement.

That’s a bad comparison. I want to use the word analogy somewhere. Harry give me a sentence to use the word.

Harry listen to me.

I have a row of bruises now too, they’re crawling up my thigh, phantoms of scarlet want raking along my flesh. The ghost touches feel a lot like yours, Harry.

Harry, are you there?

The bathroom tiles are a cotton candy pink. Cotton candy, sticky sugar, pink and pink and more pink. There’s sugar on my toes. I don’t know where it’s come from, could be ashes.

Anyway here is a pink, here is a yellow, here is a lemon, here is a peach. Mix them, chop them, there are juices on your hands.

Juices on your hands, your knife, your shirt, your mouth.

I want your mouth or maybe I just want you but I get your mouth when I get you so maybe I just want your mouth.

Mouths. 

The walls don’t have mouths but they still talk.

Isn’t it annoying. 

The warning again, the black text is now dimmer, the icon orange, it’s another warning for the same thing, darling. The same thing, a different percentage. It’s down to six.

Twelve, six. 

Harry I’m counting this. Are you counting too?

I initially started this to tell you about the walls but they’ve stopped talking, they’re now making noises, a door knob twisting, a high pitched off tune whistle.

Oh! They’re singing my favourite song.

Sweetheart are you singing along too?

I’m closer to the walls now. I hear your voice more clearly, I’m closer, can I be closer.

Maybe not. Stop singing, shut up and stop singing. Your voice is too loud, too much and too familiar.

There’s honey in a jar, honey in the pots, honey in my eyes, honey in my throat.

The warning flashed again, it’s down to six now. Same black, same orange, a different bleak grey. 

If the phone dies in the middle of this, I’ll smash a mug, I’ll punch a hole in the wall, I’ll break a bulb. 

I hear your distraught cry, sweetheart. I won’t punch the walls, I won’t smash the mugs, I won’t break the bulbs.

These walls muffle a lot of shit. I can’t hear you.

Harry are you talking?

Goodnight? Goodbye? A shape of your hands? A shadow of your body? Sweetheart, which wall are you hiding in?

I’m up and walking. The lights are still off. I can’t see my toes.

Another row of bruises and this time it’s on you.

Oh, Harry! 

There’s a crack in the wall. The voices are pouring out. Should I stitch it up? Does the crack bother you, sweetheart?

I’ll stitch it up and your voice will still pour out.

Fuck, it’s on one percent now.

Harry are you okay in the walls?

Uh oh, it’s zero.

It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll talk soon.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it, then you can reblog it [here](https://harryanthus.tumblr.com/post/633417582657011712/black-cherries-and-chocolate-by-harryanthus%22)


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